


Dirty Work

by Graceless Nerd (FayTheGay)



Series: Daula the half-orc's Adventures [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Bard - Freeform, Dragonborn (D&D), Gen, Half-Elves, Half-orc, Innuendo, Stealing, Thief, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 13:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayTheGay/pseuds/Graceless%20Nerd
Summary: Written as part of my D&D character's backstory, thought I'd post it here anyways.His boss gives him an offer, the deal is dirty but the reward is important.





	Dirty Work

The half-orc lounged back at the table, fine boots propped up on the table before him- much to the barkeep’s annoyance. In his fingers sat his flute, high and mighty and ever so familiar. The interior was far from empty, the night bustling with patrons. Any of which might have been a mark, if his presence hadn’t served another purpose. The trail was cold again. It fell off and on like that, months at a time, but then he would find a new lead.

This time wasn’t any different. It was different work, dirty work. His time under the cover of black cloaks and silk sheets didn’t nearly match the level he was going to for this information.

He didn’t kill without purpose.

“Half-orc.” The sudden, rasping whisper jarred him just enough that he nearly dropped his flute, head whipping over to see the piercing green gaze of a creature just over three feet tall standing at his right. The creature was heavily obscured behind a black cloak. It was a goblin, no doubt. The goblin he was supposed to meet.

Rolee.

The goblin said something, lost in the crowd due to the quiet words as it offered a rough green hand a few shades darker than his own pale green. There was a moment of skepticism, he knew who this man was after all, then he kicked his boots off the table and rolled to his feet. He was adorned in his more flamboyant gear, brightly dressed for the show he had been assigned to later in the night.

Corym Ilirona.

Either way, he was visiting Corym after the sun fell from the sky. There was a show after all, and while he wasn’t the star, that wasn’t the intention. His reason for going was much simpler, a golden amulet. He didn’t ask questions, yet he knew the rumors. The supposed magical properties. Even working magic the way he did, he far from believed the reality of it. An amulet that could counter any curse or illness, no matter the severity. It was a fool’s quest. Yet, he wasn’t in it for the amulet. He was in it for the bag of gold that Rasenth would give him afterwards.

Among other things.

The room that Rolee led him to was cheap and stank of ale and death. Or maybe that was the man himself. This man was far from the type he dealt with commonly. With the hood peeled back, a glance across the scarred, unpleasant face was enough to confirm just as such. This was the kind of man that simply… had no cares. No family, friends, possibly no one he worked for. He wasn’t a weapon for hire. He was a weapon that killed to kill. The kind of person that basked in the humor of someone else suffering at his hands.

Rasenth had best be right about this.

“Tonight,” The goblin began, still speaking in that raspy whisper that barely hit his ears as the small creature walked to the small table across the small space, lifted a small vial into his fingers. “You will deliver this into the drink of Tanye Ilirona at your show tonight. You will ask no questions. You will do as your boss has ordered, and we will never speak again.”

It was a simple enough exchange. Yet there _were_ questions. When it came to murder, there was always a reason, a purpose. He wasn’t an assassin. What he did generally didn’t leave blood trails. Not unless he screwed up, made a wrong move.

“What about the name?”

“I will give the name to your boss to be retrieved when all is said and done.”

“That-”

“-is how I work, half-orc. You can go back to your dead end seeking of the half-elf. Or, you can do this job.” The goblin never failed at keeping its voice at a low level, and he was wise enough to know that Rolee wouldn’t care either way. Whether he agreed or not, this woman would probably die. If not at his hands, at the goblin or someone else’s.

At least if he did it he would finally have the name of the organization that kidnapped his sister.

“It will be done.”

.+*+.

He wasn’t the center of focus for too long when midway through the performance his flute started screaming at a wrong keys. While it wasn’t a great way to end his portion of the show, it did give him the necessary out to excuse himself from the main room. During his performance he hadn’t seen anything useful, but he’d also gotten caught up a bit in the show. Tanye didn’t appear to be in the crowd, she hadn’t been at dinner. Maybe she was out of town.

As he made his way through the small mansion he was unnoticed by anyone of importance. It seemed the staff and guards had made their way down to the party, or were otherwise unoccupied in the moment. The room he arrived outside of was locked, unfortunately, and left him outside fumbling with the last of his lock picks. Try as he did, he found the lock would not give and to his pure irritation the pick snapped in half.

A moment of silence fell as the metal crumbled from the door, bouncing off the wood and echoing far too loudly across the doorjamb that ultimately _did_ click open a moment later.

Wide, brown eyes stared at him from a young face. The black haired half-elf had pale pink skin that told him she was dying -and for a moment- he froze. He froze, because he knew who she was. Yet, his knowledge- the intel had been wrong. Late teens. That was what they said.

“Are you here to kill me?” Tanye Ilirona asked him, expression soft and sad. No older than his sister had been years ago. What kind of twisted joke had Rasenth been playing to send him to Rolee?

“Yes.” It was cruel, and Rolee was twisted. He was probably nearby, watching to see him do as he was ordered. To kill a half-elf girl to find his half-elf twin sister. A girl no older than the very sister had been when she was kidnapped.

“Make it quick?” The girl stepped back, motions stiff and shaky. And _there_. As he stepped into her room, he spotted the amulet. It was distinct in its design, a rounded golden outside centered by a burning needle he recognized but couldn’t place. Not that it particularly mattered.

“You were expecting me.”

“Father owes money to someone. He told me they might come for me.” Pausing, she wrapped her arms around her side, fingers digging into the soft white silk of her gown.

The way she moved, the paleness of her skin. It wasn’t as simple as she was making it out to be. All too soon, he realized that the girl was dying- from a curse, or a disease, he couldn’t say. It wasn’t externally clear. But he’d seen it. In his childhood, on the streets, he’d seen it. Him and his sisters had always steered clear of any and all of the sick. Just to be safe.

“You’re dying.” Again, he looked at the amulet. Gold, so close. A small bag of it waiting for him on return. This girl’s life for the name of a person that would probably lead him to his sister.

“I’m not.” The girl lied, words shaking and afraid. As though she was scared he’d kill her- or maybe not her. Her father. She was protecting her father. A bastard child of a prostitute definitely couldn’t relate to that, but family… well, family was family.

“Put the amulet on.” Brown eyes met his, confusion mixed into the large orbs.

“It doesn’t work.”

“Have you tried it?” He asked the girl who bit her lip, shook her head and turned her back on him.

Now was the chance. Two steps and he could lock his arm around her, drag his blade across her throat. It was a perfect moment. Make it quick. Grab the amulet and leave.

Instead, he leaned against the wall inside the door, made sure to click the lock into place. The half-elf girl lifted the necklace from its place on her table, metal chain falling between the shaky fingers of a dying half-elf girl.

“Father said it wouldn’t.”

“Your father sounds like an idiot.” He smiled at the girl when she glanced at him, eyes wide and a smile threatening the corner of her mouth. “And I’m dressed like a fool, I should know.”

“You think it will work?”

“It is worth a try.” No, he didn’t believe it would work. Magic amulets rarely did, and their costs when they did were too great for him to be drawn in. Still, though. If this girl had a chance at survival? Well, his pocket may have been lighter in the end, but Rasenth was said to be an understanding individual. And when it came down to it, he could surely convince the silver dragonborn to forgive his failure. Possibly. If the looks he’d received were the ones he thought they were.

“I feel no different.” The girl looked at him again fully, the amulet resting at the center of her chest and he shifted on his feet, crossed his arms and uncrossed them. “Father was right.”

“Do you know who it represents?” He asked her, remembering a lifetime ago when his sisters had curled up with him and their eldest had told them to pray to the gods that they would always be together.

“Grandmother always told me Sharindlar blessed it.” The girl answered, words wary and uncertain, the name coming off wrong on her unpracticed tongue.

“Then I guess you should pray.” Shrugging, he glanced out her window. When this conversation was over, he would go out there. But it still left him at the dilemma. He wasn’t going to kill this girl, it wasn’t right, not justified. If he killed without reason he was just another criminal with no heart. It had never happened before, it couldn’t happen here. He would never let the blood of an innocent fall on his hand from that deliberate action. Rolee could try to kill him for it if he wanted.

“You need this too.” The girl sat on the edge of her bed, sank a bit into the fine material that lined the expensive bed. To this day he didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was comfortable and expensive. A few times he’d been snuck in and back out a window of a room that nice. “Why?”

Well, what harm would it do. “Killing isn’t my trade, kid. I’m a thief. Someone wants to give me a big bag of gold to get that thing for them.”

“Take it.” The girl pulled the gold chain from her neck, offered it across the space. “If a god or goddess intends to save me, that is their will. If I’m to die, I’ll die. I don’t need some magical object to change my fate.” Strong, firm. Unmovable.

Even if her will would waver, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to. Coming back empty handed would be difficult, but coming back with no blood on his hands? The amulet?

There was still an opportunity in hand. All he needed was something to convince Rasenth to hand that name over anyway. With the right moves and the amulet in his hand…

“Take it and leave.” The girl ordered, tossing the golden medallion at him. Failing to grab it, the medal slipped through his fingers like a smooth silk and clattered to the floor. He gave her an amazed look as she crossed her arms over her chest. “If you don’t I’ll call the guards in.”

Though he would never openly admit it, he more than likely looked like a fish out of water. His mouth opening and shutting as he stared at the strong willed half-elf girl.

“I hope whatever gods may exist have mercy on your soul.” He told her feeling an honesty he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe since the last time he saw his sisters and told them he would be back in a moment.

“I hope you find whoever it is that you seek.” Averting his gaze, he gathered the amulet from the floor and hooked it into the belt of his show clothes. He could only hope that his escape from the second floor would be easy enough. Walking forward, he caught a small pouch off one of her end tables as he went. Unable to help noticing it. The window creaked open easily enough and he peeked out. The yard below was empty and the moonlight was dimmed by an incoming storm.

Good.

The lattice that lined this wall still held strong and their informants had confirmed that it was sturdy. Yes, he could go back out the front door, but there was a chance that he was seen. Not to mention this would be much more interesting. Grinning over at the girl, he flung a leg over the side, catching his boot in the small square pretty easily and beginning his descent down the side like a ladder. By some small miracle, it went smoothly and pretty quickly he found himself standing at the bottom of the ladder. A small half-elf head poking out the window with a cascade of black hair falling around the side of her face.

With a final wave to her, he slipped down the yard, drawing on the magical energies that had been handed to him by some miracle many years ago. If anyone saw him, he would be just another guard.

.+*+.

When Daula returned to his room, he found Rasenth waiting for him. The silver dragonborn was seated at the small desk that adored the rickety wall of his room, arms crossed over his chest as he raised an expectant brow.

Under normal circumstances it would have been Delbena or Ferrek that handed him his pay. He wasn’t nearly high enough in the ranks to be working directly with Rasenth. Yet, he was there. Amber eyes almost glistened from the oddly rounded dragonborn face. If Daula didn’t know Rasenth, he’d feel threatened. The trick was knowing his bosses. How far each of them was willing to go. The styles and limits that he needed to know if he went up high enough to eventually overthrow any of them. Rasenth definitely wouldn’t be one he’d try to overtake, but it was because he was honorbound and he kept his deals. Rasenth was a respectable businessman.

It would also play a major blockade in getting what he needed now.

“No blood?” Daula’s smile fell at the question as he tightened his grip on the black cloak he’d grabbed from a stash off the side of a street. “Either you’re a more honed killer than I thought, or you didn’t do it.”

“The order was for poison.”

“Yes. But Tanye wasn’t going to be at the party tonight.” Rasenth countered knowingly.

“Did you expect me to?” There was a long breath of silence between the two of them. If everything he knew about Rasenth was right, he wouldn’t be punished. If he was wrong?

“Where’s the amulet?” Rasenth’s expression remained neutral, unreadable, and it sent a shiver of something unpleasant down his spine. He didn’t want to fight Rasenth. Yet, he would stand by what he did. It was the right decision.

“Where’s my gold?” He countered and a smile curled on Rasenth’s lips as he procured a small bag of gold from the inside pocket of his cloak. “I showed you mine.”

Daula peeled back the end of his cloak, unhooked the metal chain from his belt loop before stepping forward to offer the necklace to his leader. An amused Rasenth took the metal, wrapped the chains around his fingers and dropped the pouch onto the table beside him before lounging back.

“I believe our business is done here, half-orc.” Daula pressed his lips together, stared long and hard at the look on his boss’s face. He wasn’t stupid, and he’d come in prepared to do as it took to get what he wanted.

Rasenth wasn’t getting up to leave.

“The goblin told me you would have the name.”

“You didn’t do what the goblin asked. I don’t want to be on his bad side, and even if I did? We deal in trade as well as gold. Nothing is free.”

No names, no freebies, no rats. Three of the big nos.

Breathing deeply through his nose, Daula shifted back on his heels. Normally, he would’ve been flawless in his scenario. After all, he was trained and practiced in this just as much as his other skills. The problem lay with the stakes, the potential repercussions of his failures. There was no telling how long it would take to find another lead this solid. This name was supposed to lead him directly _to her_.

So, when his motions were less than graceful and his cloak wound up hooked around his wrists a couple of times like he was a toddler. That was the reason. It wasn’t nerves for what would follow- he didn’t experience nerves. Not generally. Not if you asked him. At least Rasenth looked amused in the end of it all, and maybe at least a bit interested.

“We work in trade, boss.” He tossed his dark cloak into a heap on the floor, playing off any lingering embarrassment from his failure to pull the thing off smoothly. “I’ll give you a show for the name.”

“Let’s see where the night goes. I’ve heard you’re ever so good with your mouth.”

.-+-.

Daula sat at the foot of his bed as Rasenth made his way for the door. An actual show. He didn’t know whether he wanted to beat the crime boss over the head with his flute, or kiss him. Probably kiss him. A pleasure he hadn’t been given. Rasenth had made it pretty clear rather quickly that he wanted an actual show. An actual two hour show. A solo show. Times like this, he missed his sisters.

“You should’ve been a showman.”

“Seems they mix pretty closely anyways.” He murmured, rubbing his jaws and scowling when Rasenth grinned back at him.

“The name you want is White Badger. Good luck with your sister, half-orc.” With one final, amused chuckle the dragonborn disappeared out the door, the door clicking shut behind him.

White Badger. Finally. A name.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the events in this are actively inspired by dice rolls. Some aren't. It's a fun way to randomize events that my friend suggested.


End file.
